


I am pregnant, not brain damaged!

by DenaCeleste



Series: Tumblr Drabbles, Ficlets, and More [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bed Rest, Frustration, Loving Touch, Mpreg, Multi, Polyamory, Triad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4655997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenaCeleste/pseuds/DenaCeleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is stuck on bed rest for the last two months of his pregnancy. He does not do this with any kind of grace or dignity, but his loving mates help him through every step of the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am pregnant, not brain damaged!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/gifts).



> Mysenia requested this on Tumblr: 59 for Stetopher for the sentence prompts please! Thank you <3
> 
> 59\. I'm pregnant, not brain damaged.
> 
> I may have taken liberties with exclamation points. ;) Hope you like it love! <3
> 
>    
>  **Unless otherwise stated, all works are unbetaed. Please no public concrit. Please keep comments positive. Any private concrit can be directed to my Tumblr ask box.**

 

“Come on, just put these away and take a nap. For an hour.” Chris pulled the heavy tomes across the small table with a grunt and Peter lifted them away.

Stiles growled and gestured at his girth with wild hands. “I am pregnant, not brain damaged! And I don’t need a motherfucking nap, what I need is a distraction!”

“Sweetheart,” Peter called in a voice sharp with irritation, “the doctor said bed rest for the last two months. After that problem with your blood pressure…” He trailed off and glanced back at Stiles with a raised brow.

Guilt flooded through him like a greasy river, but he shrugged it off. He needed to move, his legs and arms itched with the need, like they would detach from his body if he didn’t get to  _do something_  damn it all. He gritted his teeth.

“My blood pressure has been perfect for the last week. I should at least be able to work as much as I can from this fucking  _bed!_ ” He slammed his hands down on the california king sized bed, but the muffled thump didn’t satisfy his frustration.

Chris sighed and shook his head, with that disappointed look that always made Stiles feel like he’d hurt the man’s feelings in some way. It was a sucky move to pull, it really was. Stiles watched as his mates traded glances. Peter tilted his head one way, Chris shrugged, Peter nodded, and then they both looked at Stiles.

“ _What?_ ” he snapped and shook his hands out again. “I know, I’m disgusting and annoying and neither of my mates want to touch me now because of the asshole doctor, but if you can’t help, then go the  _fuck_  away!” Tears burned behind his eyes and his throat thickened.

“Stiles,” Peter drawled. “You are not disgusting. Of course we want to touch you.” He climbed onto the bed and rubbed a hand over Stiles’ right arm.

He sniffled. “But I’m annoying, huh?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you were always annoying. Ever since we met you. We fell in love with you anyway.” He took up the space to Stiles’ left, and held his hand.

Stiles snorted, wrinkled his nose, and sniffed again. “I don’t want to be a burden. I’m used to pulling my weight in research, even if not in physical prowess or being able to shoot things. With guns.”

Peter chuckled. “Blunt instruments are more your style, dearest.” He started to massage Stiles shoulder, and Stiles caught his nod to Chris, who began to massage on his side.

Stiles stayed tense, or tried, but it was awfully difficult with two handsome men kneading the tension right out of him. He groaned and let his head flop back onto his pillow. “Fine. You can keep doing that.”

Peter hummed. “How kind of you to allow us to touch you.” Stiles peeked, suspicious,  but Peter appeared sincere. His eyes glowed blue, and a smile touched his mouth.

“That’s it baby, just let us help you relax,” Chris murmured in a deep, gravel-rough tone. Stiles shivered, but the twitchy sensations that had taken over his body for the last several hours got calmer as the massage continued.

They ran soft, gentle hands over his belly, and he moaned. His skin there so sensitive, thin and delicate and more than a little ticklish. They stopped at his hips and massaged the sides, a place usually neglected for the delights of his ass or his cock.

Pleasure shimmered over him in waves, and they moved down to his thighs with firm hands, getting out every knot.

Peter licked behind his right knee and Stiles moaned. His dick chubbed up, pleased about this turn of events, and Chris dragged a finger over it through his boxers. Stiles wanted to thrust up, but the angle was all wrong and he had no leverage.

Instead he melted into the cocoon of the bed and his mates, who worked on his calves. When they reached his feet, each took hold and with firm strokes sent him to heaven. Smooth lips and rough faces ran over the dip of his arch, the round heel, the wiggling toes. Cool air blowing across his toes inspired him to lift his heavy eyelids and see what they were planning.

They skipped over where he strained in his boxers, and Chris took the lead, tilting his face and taking his mouth in a gentle, sumptuous kiss. Their lips caught, and Chris tugged on Stiles’ bottom lip with his teeth before Peter took over. His goatee scratched at Stiles face, and he licked into the werewolf’s mouth. When he pulled away, Stiles lay in a haze of pleasure.

Peter helped him to turn onto his side, and curled around him from behind. Meanwhile, Chris stretched out in front of Stiles and caressed his cheek. “Just be here with us. This will be over soon enough, and then we’ll have beautiful little pups running around. Until then, we’ll take care of you. Okay?”

Stiles let out a breath and nodded. Chris ran a thumb across his lips, cupped his cheek. “Yeah. Thanks. Love you guys.” He nuzzled into the hand on his face, and threaded his fingers with Peter’s where it rested on his burgeoning middle.  

“We love you too,” they answered.


End file.
